Thursday, August 15, 2013

Of Threads and Things...

They weave through green-leaf spire
Where burnished breezes strum
And aching hearts inquire
Of moments, whence they come
Or where they hurry-scurry
As cricket-song ignites
Awareness of an hour
Infringing azure heights
Stealing blooms from the garden
Snuffing sunflower’s smile
Spilling cadence of autumn
To Augusts’ sanguine guile

I’ve seen its mystic candor
Turn boy into a man
Or watched as ribbons scatter
Where once a wee girl ran
And yet, it seems we’re touching
Those threads weaving their art
We feel a tender tugging
On ribbons ‘round the heart
Firsts pass and who can tether
The span twixt first and last?
As moments thread together
Future, present, then past

Slipping through phantom fingers
Love’s laughter and its tears
Echo where footfalls linger
In the aftermath of years
And all that we can hope for
As seasons ebb and flow
Is strength to hold our loved ones
And strength to let them go
For in the dusty dripping
Of August ilk, sun-spun
We sense the silent slipping
Of a summer almost done

© Janet Martin

 This morning it was 10 degrees C. and very cool all day.I wore a coat to pick beans. THAT is a first! The mind is wrenched from summer to autumn!..but it sounds like summer will return in a few days:)

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!